


Constellation of the Heart

by Mytha



Series: By Heart [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cuddles, Drabbles, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2018-12-24 14:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mytha/pseuds/Mytha
Summary: A place for Sula and Cassandra stories set after "What is in Your Heart."





	1. No One Will Ever Believe Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "No one will ever believe us" (Cassandra/any Inquisitor) for RipplesofAqua.

Sula’s fever finally broke after midnight, and Cassandra watched her drift off into an uneasy slumber. The former Inquisitor’s health had suffered after her ordeal, and she was not only prone to infections after losing her marked hand but also to nightmares. Cassandra wrapped herself around Sula’s body protectively, hoping to stave off some of them during the night.

Cassandra knew the way these nightmares often played out, she had lain awake often in the small hours of the mourning, listening to Sula, coaxing out of her the truth about what had frightened her, hoping to make her feel safe again.

Sometimes the nightmares were of the magic of the mark, coiling itself like a twisting vine of smoke or green lighting around Sula’s body, threatening to tear her apart. Other times, Sula told her, she dreamt she stood facing the Exalted Council again – or needed to convince someone of the truth of the threat Solas posed that she knew to be real.

“No one will ever believe us.” Sula’s voice was almost inaudible, her breaths short from the sensation of the nightmare.

Cassandra grasped Sula’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “You will convince them, my love,” she whispered and and held Sula more tightly, trying to will her strength to reach out and pass into her. She listened to Sula’s breathing, trying to gauge whether this was a dream worth interrupting or whether her need for sleep was greater. Finally she was relieved to feel Sula relax in her arms. 

Her own sleep, when it came, was free of dreams.


	2. A Laughing Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "a laughing kiss" for jt-boi-n7.

The air of the Hunterhorn mountains was invigorating – the whole experience of this new beginning was. Sure, the days were full of hard, physical labor, trying to set up a place for the Seeker order to train, live and find a new home in, but Cassandra relished the experience, even if her bones ached more than they used to.

She was profoundly grateful for having found a number of her fellow Seekers still alive and willing to help her re-establish the order for the better. She was even more grateful that Sula had survived the ordeal of losing her marked hand, of facing Fen'Harel – Solas, who had betrayed them all.

Sula had not yet followed her to the Hunterhorns, the long distance and the inclement weather a possible risk to her health, but it was spring now, and the days grew longer and warmer and Cassandra allowed herself to hope that maybe soon they would see each other again.

Cassandra had spent Harvestmere in the capital, tending to business with the Council on which she had a seat – a duty much improved by the fact that it allowed her to spend time with Sula, who had decided to follow Leliana’s invitation to spend the winter months as her guest.

It was important that Sula regained her health, and Cassandra trusted Leliana to make sure the former Inquisitor had access to the finest healers and resources – yes, it was best she was there.

They sent letters when they could. Cassandra feared hers were rather short and perfunctory, while Sula sent detailed accounts of the books she read, copying out whole pages sometimes to share with Cassandra, and ideas of what she might want to do once she felt she had the strength again. These were all wildly divergent, however, and Cassandra was not sure what to make of them.

For one, Sula expressed a desire to visit many of their old companions, now spread to the wind, a time- and strength-consuming endeavor. Sula also wished, with some trepidation, to see her clan again – and, of course, to see what Cassandra and the Seekers were accomplishing in the Hunterhorns. The map of Thedas loomed in Cassandra’s mind forbidding and large.

At least the latest letters Sula had sent had sounded more light-hearted. Sula seemed less anxious and more herself again, not hiding behind other people’s words, but sharing anecdotes of the Wintersend festivities at court. She brought to life on the page the monosyllabic trainer hired by Leliana to help her get physically fitter and Sera, who had also followed the Divine’s invitation and apparently was once again causing trouble and righting wrongs with the Jennies. It had all been good to hear.

Cassandra gathered up some of the wood she had chopped in a basket and hoisted it to her shoulders, ready to make her way back up to where the new Seeker hold was taking shape. It was mostly wooden buildings now – and a wall of long log spikes, fortified by what boulders and rubble could be sourced from their surroundings. It was a beginning.

As their numbers grew, Cassandra hoped to replace the better part of the wooden buildings with more permanent stone structures. The long main building had been their refuge in the winter, it had the thickest walls and a stone fireplace at its center. Directly attached to this main building was their small chapel.

Coming back through the main gate of the wall Cassandra saw that her recruits, mostly former Templars but also some novices , were already hard at work making some of the smaller structures ready for habitation after the winter again. Everyone was eager to escape the forced intimacy of the main hall and reclaim some privacy.

Cassandra had begun this work on her own cabin the day before and now returned to feed her small furnace, hoping to banish the clammy cold from its interior now that the last of the snow had thawed.

At noon, riders returned from their hunt in the nearby valley, bringing freshly killed rabbits and young edible roots and reports of new grass and spring flowers in the meadows. The mood that night was jovial and the feast of the rabbits and spring root stew a much-needed change from the tack that had sustained them all through the past winter.

The next morning, she rode down into the valley herself, hungry for the colors of spring and the warmth of the sun.

Even though she had set off at the first sign of dawn, it was almost noon when she reached her destination. She marveled at the difference to the mountains. Everything was so full of life here already. Fresh, vibrantly green shoots on the trees, grass grown tall and flowers beginning to bloom, bees buzzing through the air – it was beautiful, brimming with energy and yet serene.

She left her horse to graze and found a spot to have her rest. She had a good view of the meadow here, and of the little stream that came down the mountains and carried an excess of water as spring made its way up the mountains. Beyond the trees facing away from her lay a small path that connected this valley to the next – and then to the village beyond – until it joined up with the roads to Andoral’s Reach and the Tirashan forest.

Cassandra listened carefully. Yes, there seemed to be travelers coming from the path, there was the snorting of a mare and diffuse talking. Cassandra tensed and watched the forest edge carefully.

Suddenly, a voice echoed over across the meadow: “Oy, beardy! Told you that this must be the right way!”

Cassandra blinked, there was no mistaking that voice, even if she could hardly believe her ears. She rose and made her way swiftly over the clearing. Even before she had come half way, a group of travelers emerged from the forest. Their leader, with short-cropped blonde hair and familiar loud voice, still in an argument with the man behind her, was indeed Sera – the man… Blackwall! _Thom Rainier_ , she corrected herself, another man behind him, she did not recognize and beside their pack-horse a lithe shape she was all to familiar with. _Sula!_

Cassandra ran forward, heart pounding, almost stumbling over uneven ground – saw the figures turn towards her, heard Sera whoop and holler and saw Sula drop the horse’s reins as she in turn started moving towards Cassandra.

They came together breathlessly, falling into each other’s arms, laughing – smiles impossible to resist. Cassandra felt elated beyond anything real, felt her heart soar, floating light with joy and relief, as Sula kissed her again and again, peppering her face with soft kisses and laughter.

_You are here, my love. You are here!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into me thinking about the Seekers in the Hunterhorns more than what this kiss meme might have intended, but I hope you enjoy it nontheless.


	3. In front of the fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for RipplesofAqua and the prompt "cuddles/in front of the fireplace"
> 
> In which Sula has conflicted feelings about being a guest at the Seeker hold.

The small hearth in Cassandra’s hut was friendly and warm – nothing like her own glorious fireplace at Skyhold, but a much needed source of heat to chase the persistent frost from her bones. Late Cloudreach had surprised them with a last revolt of winter – days of bitter cold that held the mountains in their grasp much longer than it did the valleys. Sula had heard many of the Seekers curse their location for it, advantageous and secure as it might otherwise be.

After the day’s training, Sula felt tired and worn out. Still, she knew of the necessity of continuing to work on regaining her strength and mobility – and learning how to use her staff with only one hand and one and a half arms. She was not as avid in her exercises as Cassandra, or even the other Seekers and recruits, however.

So Sula had returned first to the hut to make herself useful and start and stoke the fire. As her sweat cooled, the cold crept back into her limbs and made her shiver.

Thankfully the hut had a thick floor of wooden beams and not of trampled earth, as many of the other huts and barracks did. Evidently, the Seekers had decided that their leader deserved benefits to her rank.

Sula pulled the bearskin rug closer to the hearth and draped a rough-spun woolen blanket around herself while she settled down on it. She was still shivering, but as the fire began to grow and take root in the logs, the intensifying heat blasted her face like the lick of a small dragon’s breath: searing but welcome.

When the hut no longer felt as glacial as it had when she first entered it, Sula began to strip out of her sweaty-clinging, cold clothes and put on her nightshirt and a pair of linen breeches.

It was almost sundown and that usually meant the end of Cassandra’s training sessions and dinner for the whole of the hold.

Sometimes, Sula would join the Seekers at their big communal table, but other nights, like tonight, she felt the need to be alone – solitude was easier than the noise and commotion of the main hall at night. She did not belong.

After the initial elation of reuniting with Cassandra had worn off, and after Sera and Thom had moved on, she was at a loss as to what to do with herself now that she was here.

She made tea in the small kettle that could be hung in the hearth and stilled her hunger with some hard tack from her traveling pouch. Cassandra, who zealously, worriedly watched over her and her continued recovery, would likely bring her some soup or stew from the kitchens later.

Cassandra had accepted now that while Sula did get along with some of the people here, she did not feel comfortable around them as a group, often feeling out of place in the strict hierarchy of the Seeker hold.

Sula tended to focus on her training, assisting the healer and apothecary with their work when she could and helping the younger recruits with their chores around the hold. It was difficult to relearn even simple tasks with her changed means. The recruits on the whole were serious and patient young men and women, who did not laugh at her when she struggled and were easy company.

It was a strange relief to no longer be the Inquisitor – but difficult to know what her role should be now. How much use could she be in this place? There were flickers of hope when she felt she was making progress in her training. Being at Cassandra’s side felt right, but life at the Seeker hold seemed alien and far removed from everything else she felt connected to.

Musing over her future often kept her awake at night, but the exhaustion of the day and the warmth of the fire must have made her drift off, for she came to again with a start as something heavy and metallic landed on resonant timber – followed by a curt but heartfelt Nevarran curse.

“I am sorry. I meant to let you rest.” Cassandra’s brow furrowed as she ripped at the trappings of her gauntlet impatiently, taking them off with a final frustrated grunt. She sighed and her face relaxed again as she caught Sula’s eye. “You should have come to the hall.”

The tinge of worry in Cassandra’s voice was all too familiar, as were the meaning and questions it held: _It would have been warm there. Why do you risk catching cold again? A hot meal would do you good. Are you avoiding me, too?_

Sula echoed the sigh. She could feel the need to say something heavy and urgent on her chest, but somehow there was no way to begin. Eventually she resigned herself to the silence, her mouth tensing with regret.

Cassandra knelt down next to her on the rug. Sula watched her knees, focused on the familiar stitched pattern of her trousers.

“Your hand.” Cassandra said.

Sula looked up in shock. Wary of what might follow.

“Oh, no. I didn’t-” Cassandra’s eyes widened. She shook her head and huffed in apology. “I am sorry. I just meant – hold out your hand.” Cassandra took a deep breath and extended her own hand. “Close your eyes.”

Sula did as instructed.

Cassandra took the proffered hand, turned it around carefully and then Sula felt something smooth, round and faintly warm placed in the palm of her hand.

“What-?” Her eyes flew open. “An egg?” Confusion and mirth made her smile.

She saw Cassandra’s lips twitch in response. “It’s boiled. Caedmon told me to give it to you. He was very proud. His hens are finally laying.”

“I will thank him tomorrow,” Sula said, feeling grateful for the gift, closing her hand around it carefully.

Cassandra kissed her brow and then got up to stoke the fire which had burned low while Sula had been asleep. Sula put the egg in a small bowl to steady it as she peeled it carefully. She slowly ate it while she watched Cassandra work with a lighter heart. Maybe this could be home.

They made more tea and drank it in front of the fire. When Sula shivered again, Cassandra wrapped herself around her and held her close. Heat was all around her now and Sula felt something within herself give and melt. She sighed and leaned back into Cassandra’s embrace.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Since I am not sure when/if I get around to a proper continuation of Sula's story - this is now a place where short fics, ideas and prompts for Sula and Cassandra can go.


End file.
